The Morgan Lore - 26. Chapter 26

Choose me, Milan. Please, choose me.

Matt and Topher brought along three snowmobiles from the garage in town, hitched to the back of the SUV on a trailer. They were to use them on their ride through the Swamp Lands. Rory made a mental note to stop by and thank his uncle for all the support he provided without question.

Rory’s snowmobile was built for two, so he made sure Milan was settled on the backseat. He bundled Milan tight covering him with blankets and making sure the hood was tied securely. Rory got in the driver’s seat and used a scarf to tie Milan to him around his waist.

The reassuring feel of Milan’s weight pressed against his back kept him calm through the cold ride through the frozen swamp. Rory followed Matt’s lead with Topher bringing up the rear, until they got to their destination. Matt stopped his snowmobile first and Rory parked beside him. Rory got off, and hurried to take Milan when Matt moved to help him. Milan’s eyes were closed, he was drowsy, and floating in and out.

Rory held Milan tight in his arms, hoping to infuse his mate with the warmth that came naturally to him. Alas, despite the heavy jacket, scarf and two blankets covering Milan, his mate still shivered in the cold. Rory adjusted the blanket over Milan and pressed Milan’s face into his chest, shielding him as best as he could. Topher reached them and came to a stop.

“We have to walk in from here,” Matt said, standing a few feet ahead, his gaze vigilant. “The settlement is deeper in past the trees. I sense a number of wolves waiting where we first entered the settlement.”

Rory nodded, also sensing the same. He picked up Milan from his seat and followed Matt, adjusting Milan’s weight against him. Topher brought up the rear. They walked slowly, because Rory didn’t want to jar Milan’s shoulder and cause him more pain. It took ten minutes to reach the settlement. Matt stopped ahead and when Rory joined him, he stopped too when he saw the sight before him.

Hundreds of wolves stood waiting at the entrance into the settlement. Young and old, strong and bold, they stood with their gazes on Rory and Milan. Matt took a step back, standing to Rory’s left, while Topher stood on his right.

A woman in a dark coat with a red scarf walked among the wolves, coming to meet them. Followed close by Asta. Rory dared not ask how Grandma Asta had known to come here.

His relief was immense at seeing her. She always knew what to do. He had hoped for her help dearly.

‘The younger woman is Elle McRieve, mate to Johan,’ Topher told Rory.

Elle stopped before Rory, a smile on her lips. She stood watching him in the waning moonlight. Then, with the grace of a matriarch, she tilted her head right, exposing her neck and bent her right knee.

“We welcome the Morgan Alpha and his mate,” she said.

Rory took a step toward her and she straightened to her full height.

“I am Rory Morgan. I seek help among you. My mate is very ill.”

Asta came around Elle, and touched Milan’s shoulder, peering at him over the blanket Rory had over him.

“It’s about that time, Little Morgan,” Asta said. “Elle, you take them to the great hall. Have the kitchens prepare the herbs I brought. I’ll go get blankets. Milan is shivering from the cold.”

Elle touched Rory’s arm with a happy smile.

“Follow me, I’ll take you where you need to be.”

The wolves around them howled with joy as Rory walked among them heading to the winding walkway. Rory smiled when answering howls came from the rest of Portento. The tide was changing, and it felt as though the town was revitalized.

***

Elle led them to the middle of the settlement of houses above the swamp. To a very tall evergreen tree with wide branches that grew in the very center of the large settlement. They had built a large hall with a thatched roof around this tree.

Elle called it the place of sanctuary. Rory remembered reading about this tree in his Aedan Morgan’s diary. Though, at the time there was no large hall built around it. The tree not so tall, and the earth around it filled with grass and flowers. Much had changed in the years.

Elle opened the double doors into the large hall, and Rory stopped to remove his muddy boots as Elle did with hers. Topher and Matt followed suit, and they all walked into the highly-polished wood floors of the great hall. In the middle of the hall, they could see the large tree. It’s trunk thick and gnarled with age. Centuries of growth, so well preserved and natured.

“Those of us who have come seeking help found it in this place,” Elle said, stopping before the tree. The hall was free of furniture, no tables or chairs to clutter the space. “I’ll go ask one of the ladies in the kitchens to make Grandma Asta’s herbs. Get comfortable. You’ll find what you seek here.”

Elle hurried away before Rory could ask more. He glanced at Topher and Matt, confused. Rory then knelt on the polished floor so that he could lay Milan on the floor. He removed his jacket and folded it a few times, using it as pillow for Milan’s head. He adjusted the blanket over Milan and pressed his right palm over Milan’s forehead.

“He’s burning up again,” Rory murmured.

“The meds must be wearing off,” Matt said, crouching down beside Milan. “Whatever you need to do should happen now. Then we document the hell out of it so that others are ready, and the fear ends.”

Rory stared at the tree before them.

Aedan Morgan had called it the key to the change. Without it, all attempts at the change turn out like Lloyd, with the individual dying from rot, or corruption. Rory sighed, wondering where to start. Aedan had not bothered to write what he had done. Selma’s change happened too fast, and all Aedan wrote was his joy at having his mate choose his path without hesitation.

Rory now hoped Milan would choose him.

‘Alone,’ Sanctuary spoke in his head, shocking him at how clear she sounded, as though she stood right next to him. Her urgency had him turning to look at Topher and Matt.

“Will you leave us alone for a few minutes?” Rory asked.

Topher pulled Matt up and gave Rory a short nod.

“We’ll be outside the hall.”

“Thank you,” Rory said, watching them leave the hall.

Matt closed the door behind them. Rory looked around the room and was glad to see there was no other entry way. He and Milan were alone.

‘Wake him,’ Sanctuary said. ‘Be honest with him. You cannot give a gift he doesn’t understand. He must accept it for it to work. He must want it too. When you’re ready, I will guide your next step.’

Rory stared down at Milan, his heart squeezing tight. These past few days had passed in a whirlwind of activity. He felt like he had not had a real conversation with Milan since that day at school when Lloyd attacked.

Rory had spent so much time keeping his secret from Milan. When it did come out, it was with violence. Lloyd attacking Milan. Rory stopping Lloyd. Breaking into Kiyo’s lab. Then Rick attacking Milan. They had no chance to talk. He did not know if Milan would want to be a werewolf. After everything these few days…would Milan dare to choose him?

Rory touched Milan’s cheek, his fingers gentle on clammy pale skin. Leaning down, Rory kissed Milan on his lips and smiled when Milan responded to his kiss.

Pulling back, he found Milan staring at him, brown eyes taking him in.

“Have we reached?” Milan asked, his voice not as strong as earlier.

Rory moved on the floor until he lay beside Milan. Keeping close to make sure Milan stayed warm.

“Yes.” Rory smiled. “Turn to your right. You’ll see the oldest tree ever. Isn’t it beautiful?”

Milan turned his head to look at the tree, a smile tagging on his lips.

“It’s growing inside a building. You bring me to the coolest of places, Rory Morgan.”

Rory chuckled, brushing damp strands from Milan’s forehead.

“I love you, Milan. You know that, right?”

Milan turned to look at him then, brown eyes filled with tears as he nodded.

“I love you too, Rory.”

Rory pressed a kiss on Milan’s forehead and wiped away the tears that slid down into Milan’s hair. He took Milan’s right hand and held it tight.

“There’s a lot we haven’t talked about. I know you have a lot of questions about what I am. My family and well…” Rory smiled. “Everything about me.”

Milan nodded.

“Right now though, I want to ask you to accept a gift I want to give you.”

“Which is?” Milan asked, a frown playing on his forehead.

“I want to make you like me, Milan. Turn you into one of us.”

“A werewolf?”

“Yes, baby. You’ll be free of CVID. You’ll never have to worry about germs or wear a mask. Most of all, you and I, we’ll be together forever.”

“What about my family?” Milan asked. “Will they—?”

“I can only change you because you’re my mate,” Rory said. “My fated love, my other half. That’s how it works.”

“Will they have to lose their memories of me?” Milan asked, fear in his eyes. He was unwilling to lose his family.

“No.” Rory squeezed Milan’s hand. “Not at all. Your family is mine too, Milan. I would never want you to be without them. I’ve almost resolved all the reasons why anyone would want to kick them out of the town. They will not lose their memories of you, of us.”

“Almost?”

Rory thought about Lechter, and Rick who had committed atrocious crimes. He and Lechter still needed to talk, resolve the issue of human mates and the prejudice Lechter sowed in the town. He pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind, deciding to deal with them when Milan was healthy.

“Don’t worry about that,” Rory urged, kissing Milan’s brow.

Milan bit his lip hard. Rory brought their clasped hands to rub his thumb on Milan’s bottom lip. Milan stopped biting it and met his gaze.

“Will I eat people?” Milan asked, his gaze so serious, Rory was taken aback.

Rory couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him then.

“No.” Rory shook his head, amused. “Do I look like I eat people?”

“Well, you attacked that wolf in our kitchen. I can’t stop thinking about your mouth covered with blood. It’s not—I mean, it would be too much.”

“I attacked him because he put you in danger, Milan.” Rory explained. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have bothered with him. I’m not wild or a lone wolf like Lloyd. We’re quite peaceful.”

Milan took in a breath and shifted, trying to get comfortable. His frown deepening when he couldn’t seem to find a comfortable position.

Rory sat up and pulled Milan into his arms. He unzipped the heavy jacket Milan was wearing and Milan let out a relieved breath. Milan’s left arm was still in a sling, and he winced as he shifted to sit on Rory’s lap, with his back against Rory’s chest.

Milan tilted his head slightly so that he could look at Rory.

“Will I have to turn into a werewolf when the moon is full? Will I have control over when I shift?”

“We love the moon,” Rory said, wrapping his arms around Milan. “We do enjoy the moonlight. You’ll have the urge to run on those nights but you don’t have to if you don’t want to. You’ll be in control, Milan. I’ll be there with you, every step of the way.”

“I never asked. How do you know I’m the one, Rory?” Milan asked, his voice small, eyes closed, he hid his face into Rory’s chest. “There’s nothing remarkable about me. I’m sickly. Too skinny. I lean on my family too hard. I—”

“You’re everything,” Rory cut in. “I knew it the moment I laid eyes on you. This burning you ignite inside me will never change, Milan. My life is yours, Milan. I’m nothing without you. So, choose me.”

***

“Please, choose me too,” Rory whispered.

The hope in Rory’s voice was hard to ignore. It gave Milan power he had not thought he had. It was surreal to know someone like Rory looked at him with love. Wanted to keep him. Save him.

Milan bunched Rory’s t-shirt and savored Rory’s warmth. It seeped into him, soothing the growing pain.

“Yes,” he said.

“What?” Rory looked down at him, surprise and pleasure in his voice.

“I want to keep you too, so yes,” Milan said, lightheaded at the possibilities.

Rory’s eyes widened with joy, blue eyes like jewels.

Milan wished he could sit up and kiss Rory to his heart’s content. The meds were wearing off though and his shoulder was killing him. He shuddered in Rory’s arms, needing an escape from all the pain. If only to savor the feel of having Rory, just for once have the strength to hold Rory tight, and lay his claim on him.

Milan tightened his hold on Rory’s t-shirt, biting his lip as pain wrecked through him.

Rory held him, his gaze turning distant, then Milan’s eyes widened as he watched Rory’s teeth elongate to canine sharp. He froze when Rory pushed his hospital gown aside and bit into neck.

Milan gave a startled cry at the burning pain that exploded from the bite.

***

‘He needs your blood,’ Sanctuary whispered in Rory’s head, as though a normal voice would break the spell. ‘The bite is not enough. It only links him to the pack.’

Rory bit into his left palm and holding Milan fast, he dripped his blood into Milan’s mouth. Pouring in as much as he could, some of it sliding down to his wrist. When the cut on his palm healed, he made another and dripped more into Milan’s mouth until he coughed.

‘You’re going to drown him in it,’ Sanctuary mused.

Rory spilled the rest on the bite mark on Milan’s neck. When his palm healed, he held on to Milan.

‘Now what?’

‘Your blood will work to repair the damage caused by the poison, his body changes to match that of a wolf, it could take a day or longer. Stay by him, it’s never an easy trial.’

Sanctuary’s words barely drifted away before Milan’s body arched on a harsh gasp.

“Rory, it hurts. Is it supposed to hurt this much?” Milan asked, his voice strained. “Everything hurts.”

“I’m right here,” Rory murmured, holding Milan tight. “I’m so sorry this is not easy. If I could take this pain away too, I would.”

Milan clung to Rory, taking in deep breaths. When his body arched in pain again, Rory’s eyes filled with tears, his desperation enough to call in Matt and Topher.

Elle came in with a mattress, Rory picked up Milan and placed him on it. Topher helped him remove Milan’s jacket and they both started to protest when Milan pulled at the sling on his left arm, throwing it off, saying it hurt to wear it. His body trembled with pain, tears trailing into his hair, when his body arched on the mattress with a gritted groan.

“I’m so sorry,” Rory murmured, over and over, holding on to Milan when he allowed it. Otherwise, it seemed to hurt too much to bear touch.

Elle hurried out and came back with a bowl of herb medicine from the kitchen. Rory pushed her away when she tried to feed the contents to Milan. He took the bowl instead, and pulled Milan into his arms, bringing the bowl to Milan’s lips.

“Drink this, it will make you feel better,” Rory cajoled, when Milan started to push the bowl away.

Milan sipped the warm drink and gagged, pushing Rory’s hand away from his lips.

“It tastes awful,” Milan complained, still shaking with pain.

“You need it,” Asta insisted, coming to join them. “The herbs numb the pain to a slow burn. You’ve barely started, Milan. It will only get worse.”

Milan closed his eyes, his face pressed into Rory’s shoulder, his sweat soaking Rory’s t-shirt. When he lifted his head, he looked at Rory, noting the tear tracks on Rory’s cheeks. He reached up and wiped at them.

“Rory.”

Rory shook his head, unable to speak, his voice lost in the reality of watching Milan in pain.

Milan tried for a smile, but it was beyond him. So, he drank the medicine when Rory tipped the bowl to his lips again. He drank it all in one gulp, fighting the urge to gag at the taste. He couldn’t tell which was worse, his body on fire, the horrible herbs in his mouth or seeing Rory cry.

He closed his eyes when he swallowed the last of Asta’s medicine, the pain rolling through him slowing down. He waited for another surge of it. It didn’t come.

Milan sighed in relief and rested against Rory, exhausted. At some point, he fell into a fitful sleep. Rory stayed with Milan. Matt and Topher left to deal with a commotion at the settlement entrance. Elle came in and out bringing in blankets, a bowl with cold water and compress for when Milan got too hot.

Hours inched by, until Milan woke up heaving, pushing away from Rory. He threw up into the bucket Asta held out to him, heaving until it felt like he had thrown up his insides and nothing else would come out.

Milan closed his eyes, and almost screamed when Rory rubbed his back and it felt as though all his nerve endings were frayed.

“Don’t,” Milan said, pushing Rory’s hand away. Kneeling on the mattress, shaking hard, he closed his eyes unsure what to do. “Don’t touch me.”

“What is it?” Grandma Asta asked, noting the hurt in Rory’s eyes.

“I feel like every nerve ending is alive. I can’t—”

Milan moaned and bent over, his hospital gown opening in the back.

Rory gaped at the dark lines on Milan’s back, the lines rolling along his spine. He remembered seeing the start of them in Kiyo’s lab that day.

“His insides are changing. Reforming,” Asta said. “Give him time, Rory. This is not easy. He has to go through every minute of it. You have to let him.”

“It’s not fair,” Rory said, tears in his eyes again, as Milan held himself still, his body shuddering. “I can’t—”

“You have to,” Asta ordered.

“Rory,” Milan whispered, waiting until Rory answered.

“Mm?”

“I can make it. I promise.”

Rory ruthlessly held back his fears with that statement, biting his bottom lip hard until he drew blood. He watched Milan’s fingers dig into the mattress, a strangled groan escaping his lips, his body still shaking with pain…Rory couldn’t take it. He just couldn’t.

‘The bracelet,’ Sanctuary murmured, her voice solemn this time. ‘The tree…it unlocks the tree in some way. It’s been so long. I cannot remember it.’

Rory got up, rushing to the tree with tunnel vision. He pressed his left palm on the surface of the tree. The bracelet glowed hot, he didn’t wince at the burn on his wrist. Instead, Rory desperately hoped to find a way to ease Milan’s pain.

The hall vibrated with power, and Rory’s eyes widened when the tree warmed under his palm. Old power pulsed through him and he sat on the floor, his palm still burning even as it moved off the tree. Rory watched the last leaf on the bracelet change into a thick green vine on his wrist. He turned to Milan, and the vine grew longer, winding toward Milan. Wrapping around Milan’s right wrist, up his arm and around his torso.

“Lie down,” Asta ordered, her tone urgent. “Do it quick. Rory Morgan, you’re truly chosen by this town.”

“What’s happening?” Rory asked, doing as she asked, settling on the mattress beside Milan who was now wrapped with thick green vines that were forming a Milan cocoon.

“You asked to share his pain,” Asta said, as the vines started wrapping around Rory too. “Your love is true, Little Morgan.”

The vines moved fast around him. Rory turned his head so that he could look at Milan. He took in a deep breath, when Milan was no longer visible. Heart beating fast, Rory closed his eyes as pain flooded every cell in his body. The vines tightened around him and he lost consciousness as the pain bloomed.

***

‘Little Morgan.’

Rory felt caught in the warmest possible cocoon. He never wanted to move. So comfortable.

‘Rory Morgan.’

That soft voice intruded into his consciousness, and he sighed, wanting to swat it away, to leave him alone in this comfortable place.

‘Wake up, Rory.’

‘Sanctuary?’

‘Your mate is waking. I thought you would not want to miss this.’

Rory’s eyes flew open at the thought of Milan. Heart in his throat, he sat up fast, worried.

“Milan,” he said, the words strangled out of him.

“Relax, he’s right beside you,” Asta said, her voice calming.

Rory turned and forgot her when he saw Milan’s still figure lying on the mattress. His mate’s eyes were closed, his black curly hair longer and fuller than usual. His skin no longer pale, instead a healthy glow clung to it. His body lay straight, his arms folded on his chest. He was still in his hospital gown, but that sickish sheen was gone, so the gown looked odd on him. A blanket covered his lower half. He looked asleep. The vines that wrapped around them long disappeared.

“Milan, wake up.” Rory touched Milan’s hand, rubbing it, disappointment filling him when there was no response.

‘Patience, Alpha,’ Sanctuary said, her tone one of waiting.

Rory looked up to find Asta perched on a stool, knitting a new red scarf, this one only just started. He rubbed his eyes and pushed hair out of his eyes.

“Do you only knit scarves?” Rory asked, irritated by her calm. “Why not sweaters?”

“Because I can’t use them to swat you in the head when you get impatient,” Asta teased.

Rory ran a hand through his hair and frowned. It felt thicker, longer. He shifted on the comfortable mattress. The space around them was clean again, free of sick buckets and compress bowls. White sage burned in a wooden bowl on Milan’s side filling the room with a relaxing aroma. He glanced at his left wrist, a brow lifting when he found the bracelet gone, disappeared.

“How long have we been out?” Rory asked, looking to Asta.

“A day and a half,” Asta said.

“Shit,” Rory cursed, thinking of Ilaria. He was sure the pack house was on fire by now. She would have found it and put a match to it in her search for Milan.

‘Dad?’ Rory reached out to Connor.

‘Glad to hear you awake,’ Connor said, relief in his voice. ‘Milan?’

‘Waiting.’

‘Don’t worry about anything. I’m on the way there.’

‘Ilaria?’

‘I have her,’ Connor said, then ended the connection before Rory could ask more.

Rory decided to trust his father on that and returned his attention to Milan. He could not help smiling at the thought of Milan awake. Milan healthy and never facing the danger of severe illness just by stepping out into the air. The world was theirs now.

Suddenly, Rory couldn’t wait to see his mate awake. The thought of it seemed to have enough power, as Milan’s eyes opened and Rory grinned when he stared into warm gold eyes.

‘Mate.’ Milan’s voice filled Rory’s head, bringing Rory to his knees with delight.

***